Not that long, right?
by IKnowUKnowIKnow
Summary: The rational side of his brain was screaming for him to run, fast and far. But he was 99 percent fool, so...his feet didn't move. I don't own anything, but I do love reviews.


5 hours, post declaration...

The high from the day had worn off hours ago and a dull pain was rapidly growing at the back of his scull. Leaning forward he rolled his shoulders trying to loosen the ache, but it did nothing to release the pressure. Realizing it was almost two in the morning; he took one final pull from his beer and heaved himself from his chair with a groan. He half stumbled, from the alcohol, as he bent to clear off the coffee table. Just as he'd filled his arms with empty take out containers and countless Laughy Taffy wrappers; there was a knock at the door.

"Shit. Umm, hang on a second." He called out. _Who the hell shows up this late at night?_

Tossing everything on his kitchen counter, he jogged back through the living room and leaned in to check the peephole. He was startled to see Amy standing in the hallway, and by the look of it, she was not happy. Her arms were crossed in front of her; with her back ram rod straight she impatiently tapped her foot.

Seeing her current state, he mentally kicked himself for his earlier confession. His adrenaline had been pumping from finding the evidence they needed to get Wint. Then getting to tell-off a room full of self-important of buttheads; he'll have to check, but he's pretty sure that was on his bucket list. And the assignment, man, it was going to be awesome and dangerous and important. Did he mention awesome?

Even though what he'd told her was one thousand percent true, he realized - after the fact - it was also maybe a little selfish and cowardly. Who the hell tells a girl he's got 'romantic stylez' feelings for her and then runs off yelling _'America needs me, bye!'_?. Jake Peralta, that's who; idiot extraordinaire.

He genuinely hadn't intended to lay it all out there like that. He'd just wanted, no needed, to tell her that he'd miss her (in a totally platonic partner kind of way, obviously). But seeing her there had brought him back in time. When she'd allowed him to place his hand on the small of her back and pull her close enough to smell apricots and ginger. As he lead her over the dance floor, he'd forgotten about everything else; the hearing, the evidence, stupid face Teddy. It was just the two of them laughing and smiling like they had no where else to be.

So he'd blamed his impulsive behavior on the craziness of the day; then drank himself silly at his fake I-got-fired celebration.

Now reality was catching up with him, demanding to be let in. He took a deep breath and opened the door; going on the offensive. "Santiago, what are you doing here? Do you know what time-"

But his words were cut short as she shoved him. _Hard._ The combination of his buzz, the surprise attack, and Amy having eight brothers; sent him stumbling backwards. Landing on his bum, he watched as she barged past him and started to pace the floor. Not even looking at him, she snapped, "Peralta, what the hell is _wrong_ with you?"

Always the jackass, "It's nice to see you too, Santiago"

Ignoring him, she waived her hand in annoyance. "You know what, you _are_ a jerk. You can't do that. You can't, just...tell someone you have feelings for them and then disappear for who knows how long. It's not fair."

He felt a pang in his chest as the tone of her voice changed from anger to something closely resembling sadness. Rising from the floor he closed the apartment door with as little noise as possible. Her back was turned to him and he considered reaching out her, but he knew his heart would break a little if she pulled away.

"Listen Amy, I'm really sorry. What I did was _so_ stupid. I just got caught up in everything, because the day was so totally nuts, ya know? I didn't mean to upset you and I didn't expect anything cause, I know, I'm not like (Teddy)...someone you'd go for. So just forget I said anything, ok?"

She still didn't look him in the eye when she turned to face him, but he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh shit." He took a couple of steps towards her with his hands up in surrender. "Amy, please don't cry. Fuck, I'm such a dick. Do you want to punch me, I totally deserve it. Come on, give it to me, just not in the boy parts. Okay fine, boy parts are back on the table, but do it before I change my mind." He squeezed his eyes shut, then peaked one open, incase she was actually considering his offer.

"I broke up with Teddy."

He froze. Did he hear her right? Suddenly, his mouth went dry and he found it extremely hard to swallow. "What are you talking about? Are you _crazy_?"

"After you left I just stood there, trying to process everything you'd said. Then all these memories flooded my mind. The way you tease me about _everything_; from my professionalism to my choices in home décor. Or the pranks you'd pull on me, like filling my desk drawers full of Beanie Babies. You're so competitive, but I realized it was almost exclusively with me."

Her voice didn't change, but he saw a shift in her posture. "I remembered the way you'd randomly toss compliments my way, which I'd always chalked up to your obsessive need to throw me off my game. But, you bring me breakfast when you know I've been working all night on a case and you actually put on a suit at Thanksgiving...for me. Then when you took me on the worst-date-ever, you still opened doors for me and instead of jumping on the chance to keep torturing me, you turned down the relief team."

"You knew about that?"

She finally looked up at him with an intensity he'd never seen from her. "Shut up, I'm not done. I've seen you looking at me. Like a lot. You haven't once pulled a stupid face or made a snarky comment; you just smile and go back to your work. Then there's Boyle. He'll look at me and then at you with this oddly pitiful face, shake his head and walk away. I'm so blind; I should have known something was up. Especially when you didn't show up to any of my dates with Teddy or when you stopped making jokes when I'd talk about him."

She was building to something and he was starting to panic. He never should have said anything; maybe six months away from her would have dissolved these feelings. But, he was immature and careless and now _this_ was happening. A cold chill washed over him when he remembered the worst of it. No matter what happened tonight, he was going undercover and didn't know when he'd see her again.

His voice sounded so much more confident than he felt. "Amy, stop. Don't say something you'll regret; it's not worth it. _I'm_ not worth it. I'm sure you can still fix stuff with Teddy, he's a good guy and you deserve someone like him."

"I don't want someone like him; I want you."

Alarmed to find her standing directly in front of him, he took an unsteady step back. She matched him by taking a step forward. "Amy, what are you doing?" There was warning in his voice, but she didn't even bat an eyelash. Instead she took another step towards him. The rational side of his brain was screaming for him to run, fast and far. But he was 99 percent fool, so...his feet didn't move.

Her next step was slow and deliberate; placing her only inches away from him. He wasn't looking straight at her, but cautiously watched her movements from the corner of his eye. When she placed one of her hands on his chest, his jaw clenched involuntarily and he drew in a deep breath. He had no idea how long they stayed like that, it could have been seconds or hours.

He was starting to imagine this was just some weirdly frustrating blackout dream. He was probably laying in a puddle of drool on his bathroom floor and would wake up with an epic headache and the worst case of blue-

Then he felt her other hand placed to rest at the collar of his shirt, as she rose on to her toes and softly pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth. He hardly had time to appreciate what was happening before she was pulling back. His eyes were drawn to her mouth, then to her dark eyelashes which hooded her expression. He placed a knuckle under her chin and gently tilted her face upward. God, she was so fucking beautiful. An insane combination of innocent fearlessness.

When he spoke is voice was low and filled with challenge. "Do that again."

Never taking her eyes off of him she leaned in, lingering so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. As soon as he felt the spark of contact, he seized jaw with both hands. When he pushed his lips against hers, she made the sexiest humming sound he'd ever heard and he could no longer control his attraction for her. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his fingers and he could feel her pulse beating rapidly. He wanted to memorize every _single_ second of this; file it away for the lonely nights ahead.

His arm wrapped around her lower back, pulling her up to him so their bodies fused together. His other hand tangled with her hair to support the ferocious nature of their kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck and when she opened her mouth to him, he groaned as her tongue brushed against his. He'd never felt this kind of hunger for someone; it was primitive and erotic and intimidating and mind-blowing and meaningful, and all sorts of other stuff he'll look up in his thesaurus later.

He wasn't even aware they were moving until the backs of his legs collided with the couch. She was leaning her body into his as leverage, to drive them backwards. He was able to catch them from tumbling awkwardly, but she was unrelenting. Turning, he effortlessly lowered her to the couch, careful not to put his full weight on her, but never breaking the connection between them.

A hand traveled down her sides savoring the curve of her waist; damn, she felt amazing beneath him. He knew that most of them, Scully and Hitchcock the obvious exception, tried to stay fit for the job; and he knew she looked amazing in a dress, but he'd never noticed how long and lean her body was. When his hand traveled down the back of her thigh, resting behind her knee, she pressed up into him, causing a sudden rush of heat to a very non-platonic region of his body. His head was spinning. This was happening, _actually_ happening. He was lying on his couch, making out with _Amy Santiago_, in the middle of the night.

He was torn from his thoughts when he felt her hand slip under the fabric of his shirt, scalding the naked skin of his stomach. Shocked, his hand instantly flew to cover hers, stalling the motion. Reluctantly, he put a sliver of space between them, absentmindedly running his thumb over her swollen lips. There was a stunning blush to her skin; making it glow in the low light. Seeing her there, eyelids heavy with desire; he almost dismissed his fears, letting the fire she'd set, consume him. But this wasn't just some girl.

"Amy, please…wait. I need you to know this isn't just a one time thing for me. I...I have feelings for you, like real grown-up feelings, but it's still new to me. I'm no good at these kinds of things and I probably won't ever be. You're too important for this to be some casual, emotionally charged mistake."

He caught a glimpse of confusion and hurt cross her features before she collected herself. In a breathless whisper she asked, "What do you want from me, Jake."

"Don't get me wrong, I do want this." Waving his hand between them. "A _lot_ more of this; like hours and hours of this."

"Jake, _focus._"

"God, you're so bossy." She scowled at him, so he quickly followed up with, "Which is one of my favorite things about you, by the way. But, I want more than just this. I want to watch bad cop movies with you and teach you how to catch cashews, in your mouth, without using up my entire supply. I want to ask you on a date where you don't have to ask me if you can pee and I want you to wear that red dress from Holt's birthday. I want to teach you to drive stick with my car and convince you to throw away your doilies. I want to fight with you so we can make up." When winked at her suggestively she smacked him, but her eyes were sparkling.

All of a sudden, feeling self-conscious, he dropped his eyes to peer at a very imaginary piece of lint on the couch cushion. "And I want you to stay with me tonight. Because, I'm not ready to let you go, yet."

When she didn't say anything right away, he started backtracking. "You know what, eck that was stupid. I'm sure you've gotta get up early and whatever, so…."

"Ok."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, then." Pushing up off the couch, he reached out a hand to help her up and she took it without hesitation

The walk to his bedroom wasn't as weird as either of them thought it would be and when she came out of the bathroom wearing one of his t-shirts, his jaw hit the floor. "Umm, I uhh…I think there were shorts with the ensemble I picked out for you."

With a shy, yet coy smile she simply said, "They were too big. You don't mind, do you?"

"Nope, cause I _definitely_ want more of _this_."

He pulled back the covers and she crawled in beside him. He flipped off the light and turned to face her, looking very serious. "I promise to be an absolute gentleman tonight, but I know how irresistible I am, so if you get the urge to ravage me, I'll totally understand." To make his point he pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it aside dramatically.

She laughed, "I'll try to restrain myself."

"Thank you, I appreciate that. But seriously, I'll totally understand."

To shut him up she leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't passionate like before, but held the promise of something more. "Good night, Peralta."

"Good night, Santiago."

* * *

Waking as the sun was just starting to lighten the horizon, she felt his warm body curled around her. Looking down she realized at some point in the night they'd woven their fingers together. Overwhelmed by the simple intimacy of the act, she felt a warm sensation in her chest. She gingerly rolled to face him, nuzzling against his chest and inhaling deeply as his scent surrounded her. Jake Peralta was immature and impulsive and thoughtful and funny (don't ever tell him she said that) and ridiculously adorable when he was sleeping (don't tell him that either, his ego is already bigger than that stupid grin he wears).

She wanted nothing more than to snuggle in closer and forget about the rest of the world, but she knew she had to leave. She was already breaking so many rules by just being here, so she slipped out of the bed and into the bathroom. After changing back into her clothes, she folded his t-shirt and placed it on the counter next to the sink. Upon second thought, she snatched it back up; deciding he wouldn't miss it while he was undercover.

Soundlessly, she snuck back into his room to him snoring lightly. She leaned in and placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. The same place she'd boldly expressed how she felt the night before. She sighed and smiled to herself. Who would ever believe she'd hate the idea of leaving Jake Peralta's bed?

Rummaging through his desk, she found a pen and the only piece of paper that wasn't folded into a football. She hastily wrote him a note and ran out the door before she could change her mind.

* * *

He rolled over squinting against the brightness of the room, he drowsily reached for her. But, she wasn't there and the mattress cool to the touch. He shot up in bed as his mind flew into freak-out overdrive. Had she snuck out, because she regretted what happened? Had she changed her mind about him or the Teddy situation? Would she even want to work with him when the assignment was over or would it be too uncomfortable? What was he supposed to do if he couldn't even talk to her?

Frustrated, he shoved the covers back, made a pit stop in the bathroom, then headed to the kitchen to make some coffee.

While he waited on the coffee, he reclined in one of his chairs and turned on the news; trying desperately to distract himself. The weather, which was finally supposed to be improving - maybe, was the morning's top story. This was _not_ helping.

His eyes fell on the couch across from him. When he closed his eyes, he could almost see her beautiful brown eyes, sparkling at him playfully. He already missed the hell outta her; the next six months (hopefully not more) were going to be hell. Maybe a cold shower was in order.

Stopping in the kitchen, he held the trash can up to the counter and swept everything off in one motion; with the exception of a past-due bill, which floated to the floor. He bent to pick it up and wondered when he'd started drawing red circles around the totals. Flipping it over to see which collection agency would be calling him next, he saw a short note. Written in the same red pen, he instantly recognized the handwriting.

_I definitely want more of this too. So stay safe and come back soon. I'll keep your chair warm._

_Amy_

He read it and reread it; his smile growing bigger and more confident each time. Six months wasn't that long, right?


End file.
